


Not Like The Movies

by unknown20troper



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alpha Dexter Grif, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Don’t copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Omega Dick Simmons, Post-Season/Series 17, Set Vaguely After Season 17, Smut, Trans Dick Simmons, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 03:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknown20troper/pseuds/unknown20troper
Summary: Donut recommends that Grif, Simmons and Locus watch his favourite romantic comedy. The trio, however, end up finding much better things to do.





	Not Like The Movies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoxOnTheNile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/gifts).



It was all Donut’s fault.

They had planned on continuing on with their viewing of Battlestar Galactica but Donut had recommended the romcom [insert movie’s name here], and after the whole Shisno thing, the three of them just couldn’t bring themselves to disappoint him. So, that night, romance would substitute for robots, and comedy for Cylons.

So, Simmons sat between Grif and Locus on their bed, about to watch [insert movie’s name here]. He liked how it felt to be between the much bigger bodies of his boyfriends but that didn’t make him any keener on the movie. When Thanksgimme time came around again, he would  _ almost certainly _ demand that Donut thank him for doing this.

He supposed that might end up cancelling out the desired effect of them taking Donut’s rec but it helped to fantasize about it, to imagine asking for - and getting - thanks for this, for doing something as typically  _ omegan _ as watching a standard Alpha/Omega romcom. For acting like a damn stereotype of his dynamic, acting like  _ Donut _ , instead of what he would rather be, instead of what he wished everyone would see him as.

“Hey,” said Grif. “Iris to Simmons, Iris to Simmons…”

“Yeah?” said Simmons, snapping out of his thoughts.

“You know our Bug has the monopoly on brooding in this trio, right?” Grif said, a laugh in his voice.

“I do not,” said the Bug in the question, his voice deadpan.

“You totally do,” said Grif. “Totally. Brooding and being cryptic. And silences. But, anyway, what’s eating ya, Simmons?”

“I’m fine,” said Simmons, in a tone that suggested the very opposite.

“... if you say so,” Grif replied, his tone skeptical. “And I guess that means we should get to watching the movie, before  _ I _ fall asleep.”

“We really should,” said Simmons. “After all, thanks to your tendency to sleep during our watching time, we’ve ended up…” He paused a moment to calculate. “...seventeen episodes behind where we would be if everyone stayed awake the entire way through every episode.”

“I could always just catch up the next day, while you’re doing something else,” said Grif, his voice a whine.

“The last time you did that,” Simmons replied, “you zoomed through ten episodes in one sitting and ended up ahead of us.”

Grif pouted.

“Well, I was really bored that day and Chorus had severed off our connection. Said they were short on money and needed to cut some things till they’d gotten more. So Battlestar Galatica was the only thing I could watch!”

He frowned.

“... well, other than Tucker and Donut’s porn stashes but… I really don’t want to know what they beat their meat to.”

Simmons sighed.

“Fair.”

Locus then pressed the play button, before they could start bantering about something else.

The logos of the various companies that had a hand in making the film showed on screen, and then disappeared, and the screen showed a man in a workplace of the most generic sort. An office, of the kind that could be found at pretty much any corporation.

The man was lithe and big-assed and wide-hipped. Built like most omegas. And that led Simmons to conclude that he probably was one. Romance movies weren’t really known for defying stereotypes.

And the man was filmed in a way that brought attention to his assets - something, Simmons noticed, that Grif and Locus were enjoying, though the latter was leagues more subtle about it than the former. (It seemed they’d have plenty to love about this movie, even if he wouldn’t.)

So, yep,  _ definitely _ an omega.

(And no, he wasn’t  _ jealous _ . Just…  _ offended _ ! Offended that the makers of the movie viewed omegas this way!)

(... okay, maybe, maybe, he was a bit jealous. He could deal with it, he knew how to do poly, and this was in a much simpler category than that was but he couldn’t help but worry anyway. It was just in his nature, he supposed.)

The movie-omega leaned his head on his desk, and stared off into space. And the scene dissolved smokily into something else - something that felt uncomfortably familiar to Simmons, like his very daydreams were being projected on the screen.

He went red, and looked down, averting his gaze from it. 

But he couldn’t shake the image of the omega’s yearning for the recognition of his boss and a high position in the company out of his head. It was burned in there, burned in there far more searingly than even the glimpses he’d had accidentally caught of Tucker behind his rock.

(And those were branded in his head really deeply. Oh, what Tucker was doing to that poor poor thing…)

“That seem familiar, Cinammon Bun?” said Grif, his voice teasing.

“... yes,” said Simmons, going even redder.

Donut had to be punishing  _ him _ . That had to be why they were the ones he had suggested the movie too, not Tucker and Washington or Carolina or Lopez or anyone else they knew. The only mystery was what Donut was punishing him  _ for _ .

But before Simmons could get anywhere on his search for the solution to that mystery, Grif gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

He squeaked, startled and pleased by his alpha’s action.

The movie played on in the background. It seemed that Locus was too distracted by their antics to press one simple button. And Simmons was perfectly fine with that.

And if Grif wanted to change Netflix and Chill to Netflix and  _ Chill _ , well… Simmons never would object to him making the more  _ active _ choice.

Simmons turned around and Grif wrapped his arms around him. And then Simmons ground his crotch against his, making it very clear what he wanted. Grif made a pleased sound, and moved his hands to the bottom of Simmons’ shirt and pulled it off.

If Simmons could turn even more crimson, he would’ve. Though he was well familiar with Grif and Locus by now and he trusted them with everything he had, it still was embarrassing as all hell when they saw him like this.

When they saw his red-pink scars standing out against his skin, how scrawny he was, the multitude of freckles that covered his chest, the robot parts that were in that area. All those things that were normally covered by either his shirt or his armour. All those things that he was glad people didn’t see most of the time. There was a reason - many reasons, in fact - he had punched that mirror.

He was not a perfect omega, not the kind they cast in the movies. And not the kind that would ever get to lead Red Team.

But Grif and Locus - they wanted him. Somehow.

“You with us?” Grif said, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” said Simmons. “Just…”

“You’re having some feels, I guess…” Grif said.

He then kissed Simmons softly on the lips.

Meanwhile, Locus came around the other side, and slowly and surely pulled down Simmons’ pants. And then, immediately after, his underwear.

Because even a romantic movie night wasn’t enough to break Simmons of that habit.

Grif chuckled in response to that discovery.

And Simmons wondered what would happen if he reached his Embarrassment Limit. And he hoped that, whatever it would be, it wouldn’t be fatal.

Then, to make things fair, Simmons wrenched Grif’s shirt off, laying it carefully on the bed once it was no longer on him, and got to work on removing his pants. And he found that Grif had been too lazy to wear underwear. (Or, knowing him, too lazy to make sure he had any clean underthings in the first place.)

Simmons then heard the sound of Locus divesting himself of his clothes, and craned his head around to watch. Their Bug stripping was a sight he didn’t want to miss.

But far too soon, it was over. Locus valued efficiency, even in cases when it wasn’t really the best option.

Ah well, it meant he was seeing Locus naked now and he couldn’t object to that. Especially since he was already leaking an embarrassing amount of slick in anticipation of getting fucked.

Locus then cupped Simmons’ ass in his hand, so gently that it felt like it was barely being held at all. Unable to help himself, Simmons let out a whine. Locus always did this, always touched him and Grif as though he feared breaking them, and even though he loved that, his animalistic omega instincts didn’t have the patience for it.

Meanwhile, Grif shifted closer. And Simmons, taking the hint, closed his mouth around his cock. Grif was big down there, the same way he was everywhere else, and Simmons bet that his dick could give even be-dicked alphas penis envy. 

Simmons had worried that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, the first time they tried this, but it turned out that, if he took it slowly and carefully, everything would be fine. And since that was something Simmons was good at, they hadn’t run into trouble yet - even with the new distractions Locus provided.

Once Simmons had been licking and sucking Grif for a while, Locus finally thrust in. But even with both him and Grif inside him, Simmons couldn’t help but be frustrated. In a good way but still… it would be nice if Locus picked up the pace. He wasn’t that fragile. He could take it.

And eventually, Locus did. But not by much.

Even so, it was enough to make Simmons moan loudly around Grif’s dick.

Which encouraged Locus to risk going a little faster and a little harder.

And that made it hard for Simmons to focus on sucking off Grif, unfortunately. He removed his mouth from him for a moment, just to take a breather and re-examine the situation, and then returned to what he was doing once he felt like he could manage it again.

Grif whined when Simmons’ mouth left him and made a relieved sound when it came back. He then rested a hand softly on Simmons’ head. Simmons arched up into his touch, seeking the feel of Grif’s hand. And Grif squeezed his hair in response.

All the while, Locus kept on moving inside of Simmons, filling him with all sorts of wonderful sensations. And the movie played on, unnoticed by them all.

Because the romance in the movie just couldn’t compete with what they had in their own lives. Sure, the movies were perfect and conventional but…

They all liked imperfect and unconventional just fine.


End file.
